My sudden thirst to hear the historical chimes of Big Ben was somewhat quenched over the weekend. Hearing its quarter bell ring certainly had its effect on me, however as we moved closer to its grand presence, the mood was soured due to an unfortunate Deliveroo driver accident. My want for historical vibrations had dampened after seeing another human being lying unconscious on Westminster Bridge, an apt metaphor for the times in which we currently live (he was okay in the end). Nevertheless, the goal of hearing Big Ben sing out with a Guinness in hand is very much still alive. I’m sure a sunny day in Spring should do the trick.

Saturday would carry on the London-centric theme, another day to embrace the rich culture that formed some of Big Smoke’s various plumes. Heading to Mile End, it was but a short walk to G. Kelly’s, an institution that had been beating away since 1939. Throughout the decades, Kelly’s would have served many an East Londoner, all of whom I suspect left with bellies full and a smile upon their face. Arriving just after three with the market outside beginning to peter out, the five of us nestled ourselves in amongst the booths.

2 Pie, 1 Mash is what I ordered along with a portion of Stewed Eels. After seeing a marvellous BBC Archives video on Jellied Eels the week before, I was adamant on trying a few of the wriggly sea creatures, however, one glance at them left me a little hesitant. Afraid of missing out, I opted for a Stewed Bowl instead.

The pies and mash went down a treat, helped by Kelly’s selection of chilli-infused vinegar oil that gave them an extra kick. Ten minutes later, the bowl of Eels had made its way onto the table, “watch out for the bones” warned the man. I took my first bite, the ’70s market stool owner’s cockney accent replaying in my ears, I hoped he’d be proud. As you might be able to tell, I’m not all too well-versed with food reviews, so I’ll just say they were hearty. Not as fishy as the tomatoed sardines I’d had the night before, but fishy nonetheless. The questionably green liquor helped ease them down, and a few minutes later they had met the same fate as the two pies before it.

A short stroll led us to a corner pub, the red-tiled exterior and dimly lit features had all the markings of a great local. A couple of Guinness would swiftly follow, coupled with a solid assortment of London-based chat. All in all, a great weekend and wholesome evening. London aye.